


Jumping for Joy

by Anonymous



Category: Archer (Cartoon)
Genre: Depictions of gore/Suicidal themes & ideation/Alcohol, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24294109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Cyril takes the wrong turn in the hallway and all chaos ensues. Or, something like that.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 32
Collections: Anon Works





	Jumping for Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy~

10:50pm, Figgis Agency.

New Years meant 2 things for Cyril. Either he was busy getting shitfaced alone, or had a shotgun in hand, counting down the seconds he had left before he'd finally blow his own brains out.

Instead, Cyril found himself in the middle of a New Years party. Pam invited him, and now he had no way out. ~~~~~ With enough sneaking, Cyril eventually managed to excuse himself of the spiked punch, loud music and badly aimed darts called a “party”. He made his way to the washroom down one of the halls, only to take another turn to the stairwell. Nobody seemed to notice his absence, which was par for the course. Cyril was practically invisible to the team.

Cyril made his way to the door of the stairwell, opening it as quietly as possible. He could use the fresh air up on the roof to think. Maybe jump the latter if he was feeling adventurous enough. Cyril would have laughed at himself if that was a joke.

He was at least glad that the main office floor was just 2 stories below the rooftop, so he only had to go up those. By the time Cyril got to the rooftop, he was already winded. He opened the door to the outside, surprised by the sudden windy weather. It was much colder up here. 

Cyril took a deep breath of stark cold air, making his way to the edge of the building. The crunch of the pebbles under his feet was quite relaxing.

Cyril rested his elbows atop the roof ledge about 3 and a half feet high and closed his eyes. This was almost nice, Cyril thought. It would’ve been nicer without the knowledge that he was most certainly suicidal. The cold wind numbed Cyril a bit, which was ideal for him. He could use a wind rash to pick at later.

Right now would’ve served as a perfect time for Cyril to quietly loathe himself. Unfortunately, he neglected to close the stairwell door downstairs.

“Cyril?” A sudden yet familiar voice came from behind him. Cyril turned around so quickly that his glasses almost fell off. He locked eyes with none other than Archer, Cyril staring at him with bug eyes through crooked frames.

“A-Archer! Uh- I- you- what- what're you doing here??” Cyril stammered through sudden fear, tyring his best to act natural. He unconciously grabbed the ledge from behind him, as if he was preparing to... to jump?! Archer's eyes widened.

"Cyril? Things are tough for you, I know this. But this is NOT the way to go." Archer said firmly and slowly, taking one step closer to Cyril. The latter furrowed his eyebrows.

"I- I'm not... going to jump, Archer!" Cyril said, offended by Archer's implications. 

... So much for peace and quiet, Cyril thought.

Archer didn't believe Cyril, taking a slow step closer to him. Cyril stared in anticipation of most likely being tackled by his adversary, so he did something risky and definitely stupid, hoisting himself up to sit on the roof's ledge. He bent forward ever so slightly so his weight would fall onto the roof if he lost balance, and not onto the street below him. He stared at Archer with dark eyes, clearly telling him to back off. Archer lifted his hands up in defense.

"Don't- don't do it Cyril... C'mon buddy..." Archer said hopelessly, expecting Cyril to fall backwards by choice at any given second. Archer wanted to trust Cyril, but the adrenaline in his blood was preparing him for the worst. That didn't matter right now though. Archer had a stupid colleague to save.

"Hey! Fucking jump! You coward!!!" A harsh voice came from behind Cyril. A bystander was watching him on the sidewalk, egging him on. Cyril turned his head around scaredly, not noticing his already crooked glasses falling off. He lifted his hand from the ledge to adjust them, losing his balance from the wind and tilting backwards in a yelp. Archer never sprinted so fast in his life.

"No you fucking don't" Archer said mid sprint, catching Cyril's tie and pulling on it hard. Cyril lurched forward, falling directly onto Archer, who immediately put Cyril in a hold. Archer rolled over quickly so Cyril was below him and on his back, Archer pinning him.

"OW! STOP IT!" Cyril yelled, not expecting a hand to make contact with his face in a quick slap.

"NO. YOU stop this shit Cyril. Wanna kill yourself on New Years? GO HOME AND DO IT, you fucking idiot! What, you think any of us are gonna let you go out so easily? Tough shit." He said, still holding Cyril's arms down, stopping him from retaliating or escaping. This was all rather awkward, but someone had to do SOMEthing about Cyril.

Archer looked away in thought for a second. He sighed, making a decision in his head. "If I let go, you're coming with me to the penthouse for the night, got it? Woodhouse is still missing so we're gonna have to fend for ourselves." he said begrudgingly, thinking about his beloved butler for a second. Cyril protested by wiggling under him.

"I- I'm not suicidal Archer!! I just wanted to be alone!!" Cyril lied. He knew how close to ending his life he was, jumping into missions recklessly, using guns he had no experience with, saying risky shit to Archer, it was all successfully flirting with death. The only thing Cyril seemed to flirt with best, how sad.

"Yea sure Cyril. Go up to the roof and not downstairs which is perfectly normal behavior" Archer scoffed. Cyril looked up angrily at him, knowing he couldn't squeeze his way out of this any longer. The ground below him was cold, making him shiver slightly. Fear might've also been involved with the shivering, but he wasn't about to admit he was afraid. 

Not yet at least.

~~~~~

11:29pm, Archer's Penthouse.

"Mi casa es su casa" Archer said casually, taking a begrudging Cyril into the living room by arm.

"I can- move on my own, you know..." Cyril complained, failing to writhe out of Archer's vice grip.

"Nuh uh, you're on suicide watch" Archer said flatly, making Cyril laugh sarcastically.

"Riiiight, because you're my dad now and you control my life and what I do with it, sure." Cyril chided.

"Hey, it's not like your actual father fucking cared" Archer said, finally loosening his grip on Cyril, who immediately felt it, yanking his arm free.

"Shut the fuck up!" Cyril yelled angrily, his face scrunching up in what looked like embarrassment and.. possibly grief. He stomped his way to the couch defeatedly, knowing if he tried to escape, Archer would most definitely have his head. Maybe he could get on Archer's good side and convince him to let him leave. 

That wasn't happening any time soon though.

"Want something to eat? I have literally nothing in here, so I'd have to order out" Archer said in a surprisingly friendly tone, making a gin and tonic at his minibar. Cyril turned his head around to look at him, squinting.

"How's about.. you let me starve and die?" Cyril said, dripping with sarcasm. Archer squinted back at him. They remained silent for a few moments, staring one another down.

"Stir fry?" Archer asked suddenly. Cyril continued to squint at him, turning back around silently.

"Fuck off..." Cyril said lowly, putting his head in his hands.

"Stir fry it is!" Archer cheered, despite the tension in the air. He coped that way.

~~~~~

11:40pm.

They were waiting for their food, which was probably taking longer to arrive considering how many people were celebrating right now. Right, it was New Years. Archer almost forgot. He looked up at the clock.

... So much for partying, Archer thought.

He took another sip of his gin, making his way to Cyril to sit next to him. Cyril immediately shifted away from him, crossing his arms defensively and looking away.

"Look, if you're going to be a big baby about this, just fucking go." Archer said dismissively. He knew he couldn't keep Cyril here. He was an adult. For all he cared he could take his own life as he pleased. So why..

.. Why did he help him in the first place?

Cyril turned to look at Archer, eyes wide.

"What?! You brought me all the way here just to tell me I can LEAVE??" Cyril said, standing up quickly to face him. He was at a loss for words, simply moving to leave angrily. He opened the door with a yank, almost slamming it against the wall.

"Happy New Years, Cyril. Don't-... Ah, screw it" Archer said quietly.

Cyril put his hand on the door frame, gripping it tightly. He turned his head to look at Archer from the corner of his eye. He was turning on the TV now, silently sipping his gin. Cyril looked down in thought.

"Don't waste your energy on me." Cyril finalized, closing the door behind him. Archer stared at the door. If one were to look close enough, they could see features of concern on Archer's face.

Archer sat for another minute before putting his gin down and getting up quickly, making his way to the door to follow Cyril. He could see him down the hall, pressing the elevator button. He stopped short about a meter away from him, catching his breath.

"Cyril... talk to me... c'mon.." Archer prodded, closing the distance to hold Cyril's arm again, this time gently. Cyril flinched, still facing the elevator. He looked down at his shoes.

"Stop... trying to help" Cyril said quietly, his voice cracking. He tugged his arm lightly from Archer's grip, making Archer only hold him tighter. They stayed like that for a minute before Cyril's shoulders began to shake ever so slightly. A sniffle, then a whimper, then a full out sob. He covered his eyes with his free arm.

"Please.. Just leave me alone..." Cyril begged. Archer didn't leave, slowly and awkwardly moving his hand from Cyril's arm to his back in an attempt to comfort him. Archer would admit, he wasn't the best person to console people, especially Cyril. Damn, he should've just stayed at the party... Something inside of Archer told him that if he did, he'd have to take care of Cyril's sidewalk-pancaked body, so, he stayed, with him, as much as it made him uncomfortable. Archer wasn't a monster.

"At least.. Stay till midnight? So I know you won't do something ceremoniously stupid at the stike of 12?" Archer offered as an excuse. It seemed to work, with Cyril sighing softly through tears, turning his head to Archer.

"..I don't get it.." He said, sounding plain sad. Archer swallowed at the sympathetic lump in his throat. No way was he being affected by... by emotions.. He cleared his throat quickly.

"Don't bother trying to Cyril. This is all quite a mystery to me too." Archer said with upmost honestly. He really had no clue what he was doing to help Cyril, he was just playing this all by ear.

Without notice, the elevator door opened. It was the food courier, holding a large brown paper bag. He stared at Cyril and Archer awkwardly.

"Stir fry? Archer residence?" He asked Cyril, holding the elevator door.

"Uh-" Cyril said, nodding and taking the bag. His eyes were red from crying, which was rather embarrassing. Embarrassment was also par for the course for Cyril. Who knows, the courier probably thought Cyril was just high as shit.

"Happy New Years you guys." The courier said, smiling and waving, pressing the elevator button to close the door. Archer smiled back, waving nonchalantly. He checked his watch.

11:52pm.

Cyril hesitantly handed Archer the bag, who took it gratefully.

"UUUUGH, I'm fucking starving. Let's eat already" Archer said, turning to make his way back to the penthouse. He stopped when he noticed Cyril wasn't following, turning around to look at him. He waved his hand to beckon him. Cyril stared at Archer for a second, before frowning slightly, catching up to him.

~~~~~

Cyril had nowhere else to go but home, which felt too depressing, so he elected to say at Archer's place. Just for a bit.

"10... 9... 8..." Archer counted down silently, looking at his watch. He smiled somberly, patting Cyril on the arm to get his attention. They were both sitting on the couch again, watching a shitty movie and eating. Of course, they didn't forget the booze. Cyril was on his 5th shot of whiskey, pleasantly(overly, who were we kidding?) drunk. 

"Countdown already..?" Cyril slurred. He was too shy to look at Archer's watch, so he turned to look at the clock on the wall. Yikes, that hurt his woozy head.

7..  
6..  
5..  
4..

"3... 2... 1..." Cyril joined in with Archer.

"Cheers" Archer calmly said, bringing up his glass to clink it with Cyril's. They remained silent for a minute.

POP!!!! A bright green and red light shone through the window, a firework! Then another! Within a few seconds, the sky was being lit up wildly by bombastic colors and a cacophony of crackles.

Cyril and Archer stared out the window distractedly before one of them spoke up. "Right. Happy New Year, Archer." Cyril said quietly. He thought for a second. He.. didn't feel any different. Besides the incessant buzz in his head from the alcohol, he wasn't any happier. It's not like the new year could magically cure him of depression and self-hatred. He didn't know why he expected anything. Wait, he was drunk.

He put his drink on the coffee table, looking down again sadly, slumping against the couch cushion. Archer got up to make himself another drink.

"Well, it's 12. You can leave if you want. That was the deal, right?" Archer asked, looking at the back of Cyril's head. He got no answer.

"Cyril?" Archer called out, making his way back to him after pouring his own shot of whiskey. He looked at Cyril closely. He was breathing deeply, clearly asleep, slumping ever deeper into the couch. Archer sighed.

"Couldn't even last a minute into New Years, huh?" Archer chuckled quietly, seating himself once more and ruffling Cyril's hair. Cyril mumbled something incoherent in response. Archer was impressed that Cyril managed to fall asleep with all the racket outside.

~~~~~

He stared down the edge of the building, readying to jump. His last thoughts revolved around his friends- or, his colleagues. No way did they consider him a friend. He closed his teary eyes, edging closer. His feet were about a millimeter off the roof now.

He was about to utter his last words before a gust of wind sent him forward. He turned to save himself, his arms slamming hard to grab onto the ledge for dear life.

"W-wait! I don't- wanna die!!" He pleaded to seemingly no one. His arms slowly slipped from the ledge, Cyril readying himself to fall and hit the ground.

...

SPLAT!

Cyril could feel his whole body vividly now. A current mass of broken bones and gushing blood. He was.. still alive.

He heard cheering. They were cheering for him. He finally did it.

~~~~~

6:00am.

"AAAAH!" Cyril awoke with a start, clutching at a couch pillow in terror. What the fuck was that dream just now?!

He looked around frantically, not knowing where he was. God his head was pounding. Wait. He recognized this place. Archer's pad? What was he doing here?

Waiiiit. He remembered now. He was being a suicidal sap around Archer last night. He sighed, relieved yet frustrated. He was at least happy to be awake, not dying on the sidewalk in his nightmares. The thought of jumping off of a cliff was beginning to leave a bad taste in Cyril's mouth. That was progress, he decided.

He didn't notice the blanket on him, which Archer must've given him. Cyril looked at it with emotional eyes, holding onto it for a second.

He was clearly hungover, nearly puking when he turned his head to look at the coffee table, a little piece of paper on it next to Cyril's.. glasses? When'd he take em' off?

He quickly put his glasses back on(hello world!), taking the paper. It read:

"Text me when you leave so I know you didn't die", with an ugly drawing of a smiley face on the bottom. Cyril looked at it for a few seconds more, before smiling just slightly, folding the paper and putting it in his front jacket pocket.

He took out his phone to text Archer, typing:

"leaving now, won't try anything". He paused typing.

"Thank you for the food. And the booze. And the company. See you again soon" He additionally typed, hesitating before pressing send. He quickly got up from his seat on the couch, swaying slightly. It was still dark outside, but Cyril didn't feel like he deserved to stay any longer. So he made his way back home to get ready for work... He still had to go of course.

~~~~~

9:00am, Figgis Agency, again.

It was much colder than yesterday, it felt about 35 degrees fahrenheit to Cyril. He was over exaggerating though. It was actually 36.

The wind sure wasn't exaggerating. He could barely see through his dry eyes.

It was only a day after the party, so Cyril was worrying that his colleagues would question his whereabouts from yesterday.

He made his way out of the elevator and into the office, the warm yellow glow greeting him to another day of work. He, as calmly as possible, made his way to the private office without making eye contact with anyone.

Again, no one seemed to notice his presence.

As soon as Cyril got in, he locked the door behind him. He was breathing heavier than usual, leaning against the door. Was his vision going black or was it just dark in here? Was he having a panic attack?

A quick knock sent Cyril flying from the door in fear. He looked at it like the thing would come to life and eat him at any moment. Shit, here he goes...

Cyril shook his head to clear himself, unlocking the door and opening it slowly, the person on the other side being none other than Archer. He smiled at Cyril awkwardly.

"Look who's back so soon." Archer said, crossing his arms casually and leaning against the door frame. Cyril gulped, he wasn't in the biggest mood to talk. He looked away.

"I do work here you know" Cyril said, half serious, half joking, making Archer laugh a bit.

"Just fucking with ya" Archer said sincerely, patting Cyril on the arm as a habit to signal physical trust with him. Cyril flinched only slightly, still wrapped up on Archer tackling him yesterday night. Archer noticed the confliction on his face, a gut feeling pushing him forward to hold Cyril gently by the shoulders.

"It's good to see you, okay?" Archer said word by word, reassuring Cyril that he was welcome in the office, or, around him. Cyril finally looked up at Archer, his eyes as sad as usual.

"...Thanks Archer" Cyril said, not anticipating Archer closing the distance between them, accidentally nudging one of Cyril's shoes and wrapping his arms around him in a hug.

A noise came out of Cyril's throat, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he returned the hug gently, bringing his arms around Archer's torso. His eyes began to water.

"Look, I'm not the best person to go to when you're feeling- you know.. but I want to see you safe, at least. Come talk to me and I promise I won't bully you. Got it?" Archer said softly yet seriously, suprised by his own offer. Cyril sniffled in response, lowering his head so it was resting on Archer's shoulder, beginning to cry.

"Yeah yeah... Let it out" Archer sighed, patting his friend's back.

... They were friends, right?

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, requests and critiques are highly appreciated :}


End file.
